Show Me Love
by Nanaki BH
Summary: IchigoxIshida Unable to put up with the cold of his home no longer, Ishida finds himself at Ichigo's house. PWP, shameless WAFF


Disclaimer: Bleach and all associated materials are property of Kubo Tite and all of them involved. The song _Show Me Love_ is property of t.A.T.u.

Show Me Love  
By: Nanaki BH

"I can't take this anymore."

Ishida sat up against his headboard, pulling his thin sheets over his knees and up to his chin. The biting cold of his room was finally beginning to get to him. At first, after that extremely horrible cold shower, he didn't feel too bad. The cold shower was tolerable, having no heat wasn't. He was quickly beginning to fear that some appendages might fall off or at the very least, become frostbitten and worthless. He had no fireplace, which would have been very nice in the winter season. His sheets were thin and worn and although he'd been working on making new blankets for himself, they weren't finished yet. Worst of all, the snow kept falling.

He sneezed and that finally did it. He threw back the covers and stood, legs shaking in the bone-penetrating cold of his room. If it weren't for the lack of heat, he wouldn't have been trying to fall asleep at seven o'clock. Like usual, he'd came home and finished his homework so there was nothing left to distract him. Television was a luxury he didn't have. Even his tea supply was beginning to run low and tea would cost money he didn't have. The cold nipped the tips of his fingers and he balled them into fists.

He stood there silently in the center of his room and a tear slipped down his cheek. What could he do besides cry?

What more could he do? Leave, perhaps. It was an idea, at the very least; something that could keep his mind off of the cold. He had a warm coat and scarf, both of which he'd made himself, but at least it was something he could check off his list. He sighed deeply and his breath formed a cloud. He frowned, knowing it meant he would be feeling a little bit colder. But where would he go? It was a Monday, seven o'clock; a school night. Ten to one the only close, warm place left for him to go was the library. It wasn't too bad of an idea. They had a fire. Hell, more importantly, they had books.

He wiped the offending tears from his cheeks with the back of one cold, bare arm and padded across his room to his closet. He had to rummage passed a few boxes before he was able to pull out his scarf from between them. His coat, on the other hand, was easily retrieved from the chair he kept by his desk. With it all pulled on snuggly, he picked his keys up off the desk and made his way to the door. Soon, he found himself gone and away, walking down the snowy, dark streets.

The walk to the library wasn't much different than the walk to school. The library was only a little bit longer of a walk; nothing his coat and scarf couldn't handle. He looked up, gritting his teeth against the gusts of snow. The only light on his lonesome journey came from the tall streetlights above. They barely offered any light, but it was enough to watch where he stepped. The sidewalks were buried under piles of snow, unfortunately.

Before he knew it, he'd completely stopped, his feet resting at an unexpected destination. It wasn't the library, that was for sure, but it somehow seemed equally inviting… and warm. He looked up at the Kurosaki's snow-covered house and an embarrassed blush spread across his cheeks. It had happened all very unintentionally. He found his feet, still heavy in the thick snow, trudging forward to his doorstep.

"What am I doing?" he wondered aloud. His hand hesitated just short of the doorbell, ready to ring. The wind blew another gust of snow at him, but he still stood there unwavering with his finger poised to call attention to his presence. He wasn't the kind to beg or ask for help, but a warm home was looking mighty tempting. Perhaps he could make something up. That was it. He would tell Ichigo's father that he was coming over for studying. School work. Right.

Right when his finger was about to close the millimeter of space between itself and the doorbell, the door flew open and there stood Mr. Kurosaki, arms akimbo and grinning widely.

"I… Mr. Kurosaki…"

He reached forward and clapped the bewildered archer on the back, ushering him forward into their home. "No need to explain, kid! Ichigo invited you, right?"

When he stepped inside he was surrounded by warmth and the smell of food. Although he was aware that Ichigo's mother had passed away, his family still seemed to glow as though she was still around.

"We already ate dinner," he said. "If you want any of it, feel free to ask Yuzu for some." With another generous pat to his shoulder, Ichigo's father pranced off to the kitchen to… assist his young daughters. Ishida snickered, at last understanding where Ichigo got his bizarre personality from.

He looked up at the stairs before him and his heart sped up, remembering the first time Ichigo had brought him to his room when his family was away. After seeing how Ichigo fought in Soul Society, he'd been so surprised with how gentle he was in bed. He wasn't cold anymore, in fact he was sort of hot with his coat still on, but his shoulders shook. He placed one tentative foot forward and suddenly, from out of nowhere, a little flash of lightening sped passed, knocking him back.

"What are you doing standing around like that?"

Ishida stared down blankly at the little girl. "One of… Ichigo's sisters?"

She huffed and placed her hands on her slender hips. "You sound pretty familiar with my brother, huh? My name's Karin. Don't forget it." And with that, she was gone as though she was never there to begin with.

He ascended the stairs then, curiously sniffing the air as he got closer and closer to Ichigo's room. Why was the dinner smell getting stronger? He stopped before Ichigo's room, briefly taking into consideration the strawberry-shaped stop sign. Shrugging, he opened the door with a brief word of warning... Oh, and were his eyes surprised at what they saw inside. Ichigo sat on the floor digging into a plate of food and near him, sitting at the desk was his Shinigami self, a little shocked by Ishida's sudden intrusion.

Ichigo's solid form looked up and grinned broadly, a bit of rice sticking to his face. "Oi, Ishida! You've got to try some of Yuzu's cooking!"

Spirit Ichigo was still gaping in shock. "It's not what it looks like!" he quickly tried to cover, flailing about uncomfortably.

"It looks like you're saving time by making Kon eat dinner for you, actually. What do you think I'm supposed to be thinking?"

He groaned and rested his head against the table. "Sorry. I'm used to my dad barging in. Even if he couldn't see me like this, I still freak out on instinct." He sighed and his eyes slipped closed tiredly. "Why are you here so late anyway, Ishida?"

What a difficult question to answer, he thought. He hadn't come over on purpose. Actually, his desired destination was somewhere completely different. Ishida wasn't entirely sure how he should answer. He was already being very unrealistic; coming over uninvited and, to make things worse, his heart was silently hoping Ichigo would ask him to stay.

A gentle blush spread across his pale cheeks. "I… I don't have any heat at my place."

Ichigo, head still on the desk, didn't bother to look up when he spoke but his voice still carried the same serious demand. "Kon, give us some privacy, will you? Ishida - feel free to take off your coat and stuff."

Kon sputtered momentarily, mouth stuffed with food. "Well, where the hell do you want me to go like this?" His question was cut short when a soul-expelling talisman was chucked at the back of his head, sending the Mod Soul flying out of Ichigo's body. Ishida knelt and picked up the small pill. Ichigo finally lifted his head, rubbed his eyes tiredly, and pushed himself up to retrieve the pill from the archer. Instead of putting it into the stuffed doll on his desk though, he set it down beside it.

"Why aren't you putting Kon back into his body?" Ishida inquired curiously, placing his coat down on the end of his bed.

Put simply, "He talks too much."

He pulled himself up from the floor under his arms and violently pushed forward, forcing his spirit into his body. For a moment he sat there, seemingly adjusting himself or meditating, even. Ishida, no matter how many times he watched Ichigo do it, was still fascinated by the bizarre display. He reached out a hand and helped Ichigo up.

Ichigo yawned. "So how'd you get in?"

"Your dad let me in."

"What did you tell him?" His brow furrowed.

"Absolutely nothing."

He sighed and shook his head wearily. "That sounds so much like him" he mused. Ishida watched silently as he crossed the room to sit down on his bed. The familiar guilty feeling swept over him again, worrying that he'd only came over to bother them. Undoubtedly, he loved Ichigo, but it was all still new to both of them. Neither had problems with calling the other their boyfriend, but they couldn't help but feel awkward. Maybe, they figured, it was simply because they were very similar people. That, also, was what had brought them together in the first place; those obvious similarities and even their obvious differences. The girls in their class enjoyed frequently pointing it out but neither would confess their relationship.

Still rather uncomfortable, Ishida sat down next to him and tentatively linked their fingers together. Even though Ichigo's eyes were closed, Ishida could still tell what was going on behind them. A soft sigh escaped his parted lips and he squeezed Ishida's hand gently. "Do you want to stay here tonight?"

The Quincy sputtered and rubbed the back of his neck. "I don't want to impose on you and your family, Kurosaki."

"Ichigo."

"Right."

There was a chance that it would end up inconvenient for him anyway. He hadn't intended to even stop at their house so he had no clothes to sleep in. (Though if Ichigo had his way, he wouldn't have to wear any clothes anyway.) It was Monday; a school night. Being the ever loyal student, Ishida always went to school on time and never stayed out at night. It would kill him if he had to break his perfect attendance record over something so careless.

"I guess I'll stay, but only if you insist."

"I insist."

"Then I will."

The air in the room suddenly felt thicker, heavier, and Ishida found himself running circles in his head. A part of him breathed a sigh of relief and another part was reprimanding him for ever telling Ichigo he would stay. Decidedly, it was that part of him that was causing the distance between him and his boyfriend. Their entwined fingers proved nothing more than to rope the boat to the shore.

The rope was cut, Ichigo placing his liberated hand on Ishida's shoulder. He looked away only for a moment, seemingly awkward or unsure of himself. "We should do stuff together more often," he said quietly.

Uryuu's head throbbed. He wondered what that meant exactly. Was Ichigo suggesting a more active relationship or… sex? Either way, he wouldn't oppose. They knew that they had something, surely. Lately, Ishida had actually been hoping for a chance to deepen their relationship. Could _sex _achieve that, though? Possibly, if its purpose was to cultivate love. But… what _was_ Ichigo suggesting? There was only one way to know for sure: by asking.

Before his lips could even begin forming the words, Ichigo had him effectively pinned to his bed, his own lips quieting any possible protest his lover would have spoken. He didn't question it, instead, he found himself returning and deepening the kiss, clutching at his boyfriend's shirt. Ichigo gently started massaging the back of his neck and his eyes slipped closed. No longer did Ishida care about whether something was right or wrong because all he could think about was Ichigo. All he could think about was how warm he was, how soft his lips were, and how right it felt to be held in his arms.

One of Ichigo's hands curiously slipped under his shirt and climbed his stomach to teasingly pinch his nipples. His lips met his neck with feverish kisses and Ishida gasped in pleasant surprise. He'd never seen Ichigo so passionate before. Ishida's hands, which had been tightly gripping the sheets, loosened their hold and found themselves buried in his lover's hair, lightly tugging, urging him further.

_Why am I letting him do this? _A moan erupted from his chest when he felt Ichigo's fingers slip deftly into his pants to curl around his cock. _He's so warm…_

"Please… Ichigo…"

Closing the space between their lips once more, Ichigo complied, unbuttoning Ishida's pants. Without ever breaking lip contact, he unbuttoned his shirt and had it pushed from his shoulders in a matter of seconds.

"We can't make too much noise, you know," he muttered, lips still flush against the archer's. Ishida murmured his consent and, pleased with that simple response, Ichigo tugged his pants down to his ankles. Light, gentle kisses littered his exposed stomach; each paying attention to the most sensitive regions. He dipped his tongue into his navel, lapping sensuously and rubbing his palms up and down his sides, eliciting pleasured cries from the boy beneath him. Ishida spread his legs, allowing him to lie more comfortably against him.

Finally, to Ishida's relief, his lover wrapped his fingers around his cock again. At first his strokes were slow; languid even, applying just enough torturous pressure to make him beg for more. He crawled up to him on hands and knees and closed his mouth over his again, swallowing his quiet cries. With a couple quick, tantalizing strokes, he parted from him completely and sat back on his haunches to admire him in that state of sexual abandonment. Ichigo licked his lips, eyes hazy with lust. He tugged at the collar of his tight shirt which had, for some reason, begun to feel much tighter, hotter, and more restricting than it really was. In a fit of frustration, it was pulled over his head and thrown beside the bed.

One weak arm was raised up to hide the desire and embarrassment on his face. Why Ishida would want to hide such a gorgeous face puzzled Ichigo, yet he allowed him the minor decency. It didn't change much. His mouth was still visible; agape and panting. His slender chest still rose and fell with each labored breath.

"Just a second," Ichigo muttered hurriedly. Leaning off the side of the bed, he opened the drawer next to them and retrieved a small bottle of lubricant.

Ishida moved his arm, blush now clearly visible on his pale cheeks. The silliest mental image of Ichigo walking into a convenient store came to mind. "Where did you get that?" he asked, timid smile stretching across his lips.

"From… the Urahara Shouten, actually. I'm usually sneaking stuff like this from the clinic though." Uryuu watched him hungrily as Ichigo flipped open the top and quite nervously (in contrast to his previous actions), squirted some of its contents into his palm. It was placed back on his nightstand and he came back to kneel between his legs. "And I was thinking…" he said thoughtfully, absentmindedly warming the lubricant between his palms, "that you could possibly let me… ya' know… hold you while I do this."

He nodded hastily, far more eager than he ever thought he would be. He sat up, allowing Ichigo to situate himself comfortably behind him. One of his arms wrapped lovingly around his waist and his lubricated fingers curled around his cock. Gently, he began to stroke him, applying most of his palm's pressure to the base. In that position, kissing his neck became ten times easier and he exploited that chance often.

A raspy breath passed Ishida's lips and he closed his eyes, focusing only on Ichigo's touch, as he pumped his cock with long, even strokes. The lubricant felt wonderfully cool and slick against his hot, sensitive skin. He cracked open an eye and chanced a glace at his door. Was it locked? Even if it wasn't, what were the odds of someone barging in on them? He closed his eyes, and tried not to think about the possibilities. It was rather easy to switch his focus over to Ichigo again, hearing each and every slick noise produced by his palm, feeling the magnificent sensations that accompanied them. He leaned back against him and rocked his hips provocatively. His cheek met Ichigo's shoulder and he breathed in, able to smell the scent that was so unique to Ichigo; warm, sweet, strong.

_Just like… our love, _he thought. Despite himself, a tear slid down from the corner of a shut eye.

"Oh, Ichigo," he whispered, brushing his lips against his shoulder.

Gentle fingers combed through his dark blue hair and a kiss was placed atop his head. "I love you, Uryuu."

Ishida knew that Ichigo would look for nothing in return. He was simply content to pleasure him and expect nothing to be given in exchange. And, after coming with a short and pleasured moan into his palm, he decided that one orgasm would be enough for the night. He would assist Ichigo some other time when he wasn't so cold and tired.

He stayed against him for a while, pleased to just lie there with him and feel the rise and fall of his chest. A couple more playful strokes from his lover brought him back down to Earth. A small gasp escaped him and he turned around, realizing that he'd almost fallen asleep.

"S-sorry," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "I guess you're used to me getting emotional though, huh?"

"No problem at all," Ichigo replied, pulling away to grab a tissue from his bedside. In the sort amount of time they were parted, he realized just how _cold_ his room was if he wasn't pressed up against Ishida. A light blush appeared on his cheeks and he shook his head with a chuckle. "I like having you around here, I guess. You make the place warmer."

Ichigo threw his legs over the side of the bed and stepped over to his desk to close up the books he had laying out. He didn't have any homework that needed immediate finishing. Anymore studying he would have done would have been for tests later on in the week. The only thing that required his attention was his boyfriend and he would be sure to give him his fair share of time.

With Uryuu's warmth and wellbeing in mind, he then began opening some drawers, fishing around for something decent he could sleep in. He turned up with an old pair of plaid pajama pants and a (disbanded) band t-shirt and threw them in Ishida's general direction.

"Those should do you for tonight."

Ishida caught them with a smile and immediately began pulling them on. Once he had the shirt comfortably tugged on, he hopped off the bed and pulled back the covers then took his coat from the edge of the bed and rested it over the desk's chair. "And everything looks comfortable now!" He beamed happily and marched across the room to grab Ichigo's wrist and pulled him against himself. "Come on to bed now?" he asked him hopefully.

He gave the room a good once-over and then gave a curt nod. "Yeah," he said, putting an arm around his boyfriend's shoulder. "Bed now."

Things were starting to look a bit warmer.

Author's Notes: I'm going to die over that ending. Sometimes I really know how to finish something out, and sometimes I don't. Well, it took me a really long time to finish that fic, so I'm glad it even _got _finished. It was a bit longwinded, but I enjoyed writing it. I hope you enjoyed it. Feedback is appreciated.


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